Curse of the Blessed
by JennMel
Summary: What if the outcome of Ghost Machine was not in fact the end? What if it was only the beginning? The 21st century is when it all changes, when Torchwood shows its true colours.
1. Chapter 1

Author Notes: Hi! This is my first Torchwood fic, and I wasn't going to write it until my beta started threatening me with pain... Anyway, it's sort of a tag to Ghost Machine, but is AU. I wrote it before the last episode, Countrycide, so there won't be any spoilers, only suggestions:)

Disclaimer: I own neither Doctor Who or Torchwood, but all poetry is mine.

Curse of the Blessed

Chapter 1

_Wake up in the morning,_

_Heart pounding in your ears,_

_The nightmare of you falling,_

_The nightmare of your fears,_

_You see your mind cry out,_

_Through the darkness of your dream,_

_The reaper plants the seed of doubt,_

_You hear your soundless scream._

Owen leant against the wall, trying to form a clear picture of the recent events. Gwen was still in shock, but was considerably calmer since she and Jack had had a talk. Owen scrubbed at his face, trying to get the image of that poor girl from his head. Both of the people he had seen were dead now, but to him they seemed as alive in his mind as Jack or Toshiko did right in front of him. Owen shivered. He felt cold, as if someone had filled his lungs with ice.

It had been quiet for some time, until finally Jack seemed to shake himself, and stood, "Alright everyone. Go home, sleep. I expect to see you all here bright and early tomorrow."

There were no smiles and usual cheery waves as the Torchwood team said their goodbyes and began to make their separate ways home. Owen walked swiftly to his apartment, head down, hands shoved in pockets. All he needed was a drink, and a very long sleep. They dealt with this sort of thing everyday, so why was this affecting him so much? Owen was so absorbed in his thoughts, that he very almost cried out when he felt something brush his shoulder. His head snapped up, and he whirled round. Nothing there, the wharf was empty. Owen shivered again. He shook his head, and began to walk faster.

Hooves. Horse shoes. Clipping sharply on cobbled streets. Owen looked fervently around. That was it. He was going nuts. A scream penetrated the night, and the hooves stopped. Owen was getting really nervous now. He thought about calling Jack, but what would he say? _Sorry to bother you, but I'm hearing things_. Like that would go down well. Owen sighed, and returned to his walk, but with an even quicker pace. Then he froze.

A girl, no older than fifteen, was standing on the metal railings that separated the path to the river. The drop was large, and the undercurrents strong. There would be no way she would survive that. With a jolt, Owen realised what she was doing, "Hey!" He ran towards her, "Hey! Stop!"

The girl didn't move. She remained staring at the water below. As Owen got closer, his feet seemed to turn to lead, until he could go no further. The girl was still out of reach. Oh god, let this be a dream, please let this be a dream. The girl started speaking, "I hate them. I fucking hate them! Everything is bad, so bad." She spoke with a light welsh lilt. Owen blinked. No. It couldn't be happening again. He didn't have the device! "What's the use? It's not like anyone will believe me. How could this possibly get better? No one can fix this. No one ever listens to me."

"No." Owen choked, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the desolate girl. She closed her eyes, tears rolling freely down her cheeks. She let go of the railing.

Owen felt sick. Why hadn't he helped her? The same scream sounded again from behind him, and he turned to see an odd, distorted scene of a horse and cart, with shadows of people surrounding it. One figure shined brightly. A small boy, no older than six, dressed in Victorian garb. He was crushed under the wheels, but then everything faded back to the street and modern day Cardiff.

Owen began to walk backwards, and then he turned and ran. In the corner of his eye, he saw the same girl jump once more off the railing to her death. Voices, screams, shouts, sobs, all mingled in the once still night air. Colours, bright and faded, vibrant and dull, assaulted Owen's vision as he ran and ran and ran. Cries for help, cries of murder, helplessness and loss. The emotions of the old, the emotions of the young. It made no difference. Owen felt everything; he felt their fear, anger, sorrow and pain, just as he had with Lizzie. They were in his mind, they were in his head, they were in his soul.

Owen slammed into the door to his block of apartments, fumbling for the key. His eyes were blurred, mingled with the tears of hundreds of people. Finally, he made it to his own apartment, and slammed the door, locking it. He slid down to the floor, curling up against the door, hands over his ears, rocking slightly. He concentrated on his breathing, listening to it enter and leave his lungs, until it was all he could hear. He found the effect of this calming in one way, and yet the feeling of complete and utter terror did not leave him. Those people had all been in his head, they had gotten inside of him, and he hadn't been able to block them out. He didn't have the device. Ianto had locked it up. He had _seen_ him lock it up. Besides, why on Earth would he have wanted to take that god-awful machine home anyway?

He didn't know how long he sat there for, but finally, Owen opened his eyes and slowly rose to his feet. He needed a drink. He needed sleep. In the back of his mind, he knew he should call Jack, but he couldn't. Jack hadn't understood about Lizzie, so why should he now? Owen shrugged off his coat and boots, shivering slightly in the thin top he wore. Walking forwards into his open plan living area, Owen flicked on the light, and froze.

Hanging from the ceiling, swinging gently as if in a light breeze, was a woman, eyes glazed and staring, mouth slightly open. She hung by the neck. Owen doubled over and was violently sick as he felt a wall of emotions hit him. Not just the dead woman's, but others. A man yelling, sobbing, and a girl screaming in grief while another felt pity. They wouldn't shut up. The ghosts, some solid, others blank and faceless surrounded him, suffocated him, until Owen could take no more.

"Shut up! Please shut up! Leave me alone!" His breath came out in ragged sobs, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry! I can't help you!"

He began picking things up and smashing them, trying to make the screams stop. This was wrong, so very wrong. The ghosts from outside began to mingle in his mind, so that he was no longer sure if they were in the room with him, or merely figments of his imagination. Lizzie Lewis and Ed Morgan floated in front of his vision, their distorted voices mixing with the others.

Owen felt the air contract with the multitude of emotions, and he felt his grip on reality slide away.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: What do you think? Please review! This fic will not be entirely Owencentric, it's more about Torchwood itself.


	2. Chapter 2

Author Notes: Thank you all for the feedback!

Chapter 2

"Morning Jack." Toshiko smiled as she entered their facility. Jack returned the smile. Today was going to be a better day. It had to be. Gwen appeared not long after, still slightly pale, but determined to go on. The phone rang, which Tosh answered. After a quick conversation, she hung up, "Ianto's stuck in traffic, he said he shouldn't be long."

Gwen flicked through some paper on her desk, "Where's Owen? He's usually here before me."

Tosh shrugged, turning to Jack, who frowned, "He'd better not have gone freelance again. Call him."

Toshiko complied, "No answer."

Jack's face held a flicker of worry, and also of annoyance, "How far is Ianto from Owen's apartment?"

"You can walk to it from here." She pulled up satellite tracking on Ianto's Torchwood car, "He's only a couple of yards away."

Jack nodded, "Send him to check out Owen's place. He might've overslept. God knows we were tired last night. Doesn't mean I won't kill him though. He needs to understand the meaning of the words 'bright and early'."

Ten minutes later, Ianto called back, Jack answered on speaker, "Please tell me you'll be here soon. Tosh has pulled up some unusual sighting of what might be another Weevil."

"Jack." Ianto's voice seemed to be purposefully low and neutral, "You need to come down here. Now."

"What-" Gwen started.

Ianto cut her off, "Please. Now." He hung up.

The last note of urgency before Ianto had cut them off was enough to plant a seed of worry in their minds, and they quickly gathered their normal equipment and ran out.

* * *

They made it to Owen's apartment in record time. Gwen halted at the door, Jack and Tosh right behind her. It had been forced, probably Ianto. Tentatively, they entered, only to be greeted with a sight of complete carnage. Stains of liquid – alcohol by the smell of it – ran down the walls. Shattered glass littered the floor, and splintered furniture stuck out at odd angles. As they came around the corner, however, the true weight of the situation became apparent. Ianto stood a few feet away from the smashed window that dropped immediately into the river below. As soon as he saw them, he held up a hand to signal them to stop and be quiet, panic clear on his features. Jack had to grab Gwen around the stomach to stop her from running forwards.

The reason for this concern and drama was standing on the ledge where the floor to ceiling windows used to be. Owen was quite still, facing outwards to the world, eyes blank, with only one hand gripping the frame. His feet and hands were red and bloody, as if he had walked over the glass without care.

Jack gestured to the others to stay where they were, and then began walking slowly towards the window and Owen. Making sure his voice was steady, Jack spoke softly, "Owen? It's me, Jack. Why are you standing there?"

"It's no good."

Ianto shrugged at Jack's odd look, muttering, "He keeps saying that."

"Everything is bad, so bad." Owen's voice was so soft and desolate that the wind almost blew it away.

"No it's not Owen." Jack's voice had risen a notch in urgency, "It's not. There are lots of good things."

Owen shook his head, "No. Everyone is screaming and they won't shut up."

Jack swallowed, "It's cold, Owen, why don't you come away from the window?"

"All you have to do is one step forwards. That's all. Nothing to it. It's scary, but over soon. That's what she said."

Jack felt his stomach give a jolt, "What who said, Owen? Owen, who have you been talking to?" He was fighting to keep his voice calm. In the corner of his eye, he saw Ianto move forwards slightly.

"The girl said. She did it."

"Did what?"

"She did it." Owen let go of the frame so that he was balancing on the ledge with only his shredded feet keeping him from falling.

"Owen, listen to me. We can make things better. We can fix things. Owen, please. Please Owen…"

Owen blinked a few times, and his hand returned to the frame. His gaze was unfocused and confused, "Jack?"

"Yeah." Jack almost laughed in relief, taking a few steps forwards and holding out his hand, "Come on Owen."

Owen twisted, and then took a slight step back, still gripping the frame. He shuffled forwards slightly, and then reached out to grasp Jack's hand.

Owen retracted his hand as soon as his fingers brushed Jack's skin, panic wide in his eyes, "No!" He stumbled backwards unsteadily, and would have fallen to his death had Ianto not leapt forwards and grabbed him firmly around his waist, dragging him away from the window. Owen's legs gave way, and his knees buckled so that he sank to the floor, shivering. Ianto kept his hold around the terrified man, as if attempting to anchor him in reality.

Jack stepped forwards, "Owen, what-"

"Get away from me!" Owen tried to scramble backwards, but his weak limbs refused to comply against Ianto's strong grip.

Tosh spoke up, "Owen, it's us, your friends."

Gwen joined in, fear and worry lacing her tone,"We're not going to hurt you. We can help."

Jack crouched down so that he was on eye level with Owen, "We're going to help you, but you just need to help us first."

Owen shook his head violently, "No. No. Leave me alone."

Jack reached out a hand again, but Owen recoiled, gasping in terror, "Don't touch me! I can smell it on you, you stink of it. It's on your skin, in your blood. There is something of the wolf about you. So much death."

Jack ignored the confusing pleas, but the words that should have made no sense to Owen lodged in Jack's mind. He grasped Owen's shoulders, "What do you know about the wolf?" Jack's voice was sharper and angrier than he had intended, "Tell me!"

Owen struggled, breathing far too heavily. He shook his head, "Bad Wolf. Everywhere." Owen frowned as his eyes drooped, "Not yours. Someone gave it to you. Part of it."

Owen's eyes rolled back and his eyelids slid shut. Jack remained frozen. There was no way that Owen could know about Bad Wolf. Only the Doctor, Rose and himself had heard of it, and even then, only in passing. What if Owen knew what had happened to him on Satellite Five? What if he knew the Doctor? Jack knew it was unlikely, but either way, something was seriously wrong with Owen, and they really needed to get him back to Torchwood.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter:)


	3. Chapter 3

Author Notes: Thanks for all feedback! There will be no real ships in this story, as I'm trying to keep the timeline as canon as possible, so it will end before Cyberwoman, but there may be suggestions:)

Chapter 3

It had been hard to be discreet carrying an unconscious man to a car in rush hour, but Jack had managed it. They sped to their second home, and quickly took Owen down into its depths. "Jack, where are you going?" Gwen frowned as she watched Jack carry Owen in what she thought to be the wrong direction. Instead of heading to the autopsy room, probably the most medically equipped, Jack was taking their unconscious team mate down to the holding cells.

Gently, Jack laid Owen on the floor, scrunching up his coat to use as a makeshift pillow, "I don't know what's wrong with Owen, but either way, it's connected to aliens – it might not even be him anymore."

"That's ridiculous Jack! You don't know it's alien! He's ill!"

Jack closed the door, "Bad Wolf. That's how I know."

"Jack, what-" But Jack was already up the stairs. The others had nothing to do but follow him.

Before Gwen could throw out any more protests, Jack started dishing out orders, "Tosh, I need all the records we have on Owen's past, any connection especially to the keywords of 'Bad Wolf', 'Rose Tyler' and 'The Doctor'. Medical records too. Ianto, I need you to do a cleanup for me – I don't want any awkward questions floating around about this morning."

Ianto nodded, "Got it." Tosh looked like she wanted to protest, but she too followed her orders.

"Gwen-"

"No! How can you be so cold? This is Owen we're talking about, he's our friend!"

Jack looked upon her calmly, "I know, and I'm trying to help him. Come with me."

Jack took Gwen back down to the holding cells, and showed her a hidden panel that came out from the wall. "These show the readings being taken from the cell. You're going to have to play doctor, because I doubt he'd let me near him. If he wakes up, keep him talking, we'll be watching on the cameras."

"Can I go in?"

"Gwen-" Jack said again.

"Can I go in?" she repeated.

Jack regarded her carefully, "Use your own judgement."

* * *

It had been three hours since they had found Owen about to jump, and Tosh was still trying to research. Normally she was never this slow but - "The more you check the camera, the more time it will take you to find out what's wrong." 

Toshiko sighed guiltily, "Owen and I joined Torchwood at the same time. We were posted in Glasgow, until he got a transfer here, and I was moved to Torchwood One; we finally joined back up here last Christmas. I've known him all the way through this nightmare. He is rude, egotistical and stubborn, but this place would be nothing without him. I can't concentrate Jack. Owen's probably the best friend I've got."

Jack didn't reply with a snide order, he merely placed a hand on the petite woman's shoulder, "And I know you'll save him."

Toshiko sighed again, and returned to her work. A small window appeared in the corner of her screen which made her frown, "What the..?"

Jack, who had been talking with Ianto, turned, "What?"

"Owen's file. My computer automatically scans every document I access – it's been doing it since I've been searching. It says the file's got an encrypted level." She tapped a few choice phrases onto the keyboard, "Woah."

Reams of encrypted text flashed on the screen. Jack raised his eyebrows, "That's good work."

Tosh nodded in agreement, "Whoever did this was a professional. But why? I mean, it's just Owen. This is a Torchwood personnel file; it shouldn't have more than a hidden exclamation mark. What would someone want to hide?"

Ianto frowned, "You mean what Owen would want to hide."

"Not necessarily. You need top clearance to gain access to the mainframe to alter these things, and the fact that there are no fingerprints…this was official. It must have been."

"Can you decrypt it?"

Tosh quirked a smile that was rarely seen away from computers, "Yes. Give me some time."

* * *

Gwen sat next to the shivering form of Owen. He twisted and turned, muttering nonsense in his sleep, but did not wake. She could practically feel the heat radiate off him as a fever took hold of his body. Gwen had tried to coax him into drinking water earlier, but had long given up. She was torn between remaining with her friend, and wanting to know what the others had found out.

A barely audible groan caught her attention, and she absentmindedly stroked Owen's forehead to calm him. She was sure his temperature was rising. "Gwen?" She jumped, looking down to see Owen's too-bright eyes blinking blearily up at her, "Why's it so cold?"

"You're sick Owen. It's okay, just go back to sleep," despite what Jack had said, she didn't want him to become too aware of his situation.

But Owen was waking up, "Why're we down here? What's going on?" He shivered again, "Where are they?"

"Upstairs-"

Owen shook his head, eyes drooping slightly, "No. The ghosts."

Gwen blinked, "What? No, Owen, we sorted that all out, remember? Ed Morgan's dead." She swallowed a lump in her throat, guilt resurfacing.

"No." He denied again, "The other ghosts. I didn't stop seeing them. Saw them all night. Device fucked up my head." Owen's words were becoming more slurred.

"What?" Gwen was starting to feel really worried now.

"I can feel everything. I…" Owen's words trailed off as his face contorted; sweat beading on his forehead, "Oh god!"

Gwen grabbed Owen's arms as his back arched and he started yelling in pain, "Owen! Owen! What is it?"

"God, so scared, she's so scared. Can feel that thing in her body, vying for control. Oh god no… Make it stop. Help me!"

It suddenly struck Gwen that Owen was feeling the emotions of Carys – this had been her cell last. "Owen, Owen, it's okay, Owen please…" The panel outside started making frantic beeps, indicating a dangerous rise in heart rate. "Owen!" The beeping stopped as Owen slumped back, unconscious once more, breathing ragged and shallow.

Jack came running to the cell door, "Gwen?"

"He's getting worse Jack. And I think I know what's wrong. He keeps saying he's still seeing ghosts like Lizzie. A minute ago, I think he was seeing Carys."

Jack blinked, "That's impossible. You and Bernie haven't exhibited any long term side effects from the device, and Bernie used it for longer than Owen."

"What else would explain it?"

Jack's face seemed to be permanently marred with worry lines, "Tosh thinks she's found something, come on."

As a pair, they walked silently up to where their other team mates were standing. Toshiko looked rather pale. "I've decrypted the file."

"And?"

"It's a link to another personnel file. Jack, Owen was marked down to be a Torchwood operative from birth. And so was this person." Jack leaned towards the screen as Tosh clicked the mouse, "Christina Harper, aged 35, listed as a blue operative, Torchwood One, until June 2006. Deceased. She was Owen's older sister."

Jack frowned, "I remember him taking leave around that time, just after Ianto joined us from London."

"What's a blue operative?" Gwen asked.

"Covert research, they answer only to the highest authorities."

Ianto frowned, "I knew her, she was killed a month before the battle. I never connected the two."

Tosh shook her head, "This doesn't make any sense. I don't think Owen even knew his sister was Torchwood. I was confused when he got the smaller posting here – he should have gone to London." Tosh flicked through a few more files, "Oh my god…his family have all been Torchwood operatives, down his mother's side. This is insane."

Jack shook his head, "That's got to be wrong. We don't employ families for fear of compromise. People are employed on skill. The only time something like that would happen is if it's in the family's genes, but I would have been notified."

Tosh shook her head, "That's what it says, each one was marked. The first, Elizabeth Black, was recruited by Queen Victoria personally."

Gwen ran her hand through her hair, "Why though?"

Ianto bent over Toshiko's shoulder, "It's not just that though, look, it goes back further, there's a whole family tree."

"And an odd file on witch burnings. Owen's family hasn't had much luck." Tosh frowned, "There's something else, another file attacked to Christina's file. I need your code Jack."

Jack nodded, and entered his passcode, "Holy…"

"It's her research."

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Still with me? Let me know what you think:)!


	4. Chapter 4

Author Notes: Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy. I will answer IndeMaat's question at the end.

Chapter 4

This was insane. Jack sat next to Owen, who had slipped into yet another fever induced sleep. The others were still upstairs, likely talking about what they had found. It wasn't fair. Owen's own family had kept his heritage from him. It was wrong. And now, now when Jack could tell him the truth, he lay dying on the floor of one of their containment cells. They had thought about moving their friend earlier, but he had started to have panic attacks and fits, and in the autopsy room, he was more like to hurt himself.

Christina Harper had done some strange things. Apparently, she had not agreed with what was happening to her brother, and so had done some research out of Torchwood's jurisdiction. It was as if she had left a paper trail, only accessible through a code from Torchwood Three, in case of her demise. Her research was not just astounding, it was mind boggling. Jack sighed, remembering the opening message to the documents. A letter of someone who knew they would die.

_Dear Toshiko Sato and Capt. Jack Harkness._

_While you will never meet me - they are already tracking me - you already know my brother, Owen Harper. Enclosed in my Torchwood personnel file, the one place they would never look, is my research concerning my family, specifically my brother. I know of you, and hope that you are the only ones who might look for this. I would presume that by finding my research, you have been looking through my brother's file, and so I can only presume that his Epsilon gene (E-89-G-dtl) has finally activated, as Torchwood hoped it one day would._

_All I can ask of you is that you read my research, and that you keep Owen safe. While you might not realise it, Torchwood Three was never commissioned like the others – it was set up to keep an eye on Owen, the rift was just a convenience. They expect you to report Owen's changes, but I orchestrated the recruitment of the both of you. I know you will keep him safe._

_DO NOT TRUST TORCHWOOD._

_Christina Harper_

Jack sighed again. The documents had been beyond imagination. They had contained complicated blood works, historical documents, family trees, and medical files. From what they could gather, Owen's maternal family had been all women. They had never had a son, only ever one daughter per generation, and one story. According to Christina's telling of it, a strange plague had once hit the home of their family in 1438, different from the one that had ravaged so many others. This one had made you cry tears of blood and sing to the stars. By the time it had run its course, only one girl was left alive, maddened, screaming of daemons in the night. From that time onwards, her family was cursed. They never had a son again.

As science evolved, the curse spread to the ears of the Victorian monarch, centuries later, who likened it to experiences of her own. She took the girl of the time under her wing, trying to find explanations for this strange trend. As understanding of DNA increased, a startling discovery was made. The women in this family had an abnormal gene, seemingly dormant, and yet definitely not natural to the human genome. It was something completely new, implanted in the strongest, yet most innocent human that the 'daemons'could find.

But authority changes hands, the greedy and ambitious take hold. When a son of the new age was born to the line of women, Torchwood immediately snapped him up, the mother making a mysterious disappearance, the older sister too young to understand. Tests were run, and a slightly different variation of the gene was identified. Like its predecessors, it was dormant, but this version seemed to have the potential to become active. And so Torchwood Three was established. The sister, brother and father were allowed to grow up as every generation of the cursed line had been before, until the children came of age to be trained, the boy never knowing of the reasoning behind it all, the sister only knowing a bedtime story.

The fact was Owen had an alien gene, one that was fully evolved and activated over generations of his family; incubated in an undiluted maternal DNA line until it was strong enough to surface. It was this that had allowed for his advanced interaction with the technology and god knew what else. The only problem was, this gene was killing him. There was clearly something missing from the tale, some stabilising element required. But Jack had no idea what.

Tosh came running into the cell, face pale. For a second she froze upon seeing the dying form of her friend, but then started speaking in a rush, "Christina worked it out. The day before she died, she met with a man who she thought would give her the answer. He did, sort of; he gave her a time and place. When he would come and help."

"And?" It came out harsher than Jack had intended.

"Here, today, two hours from now. We have surveillance photos. They match another branch of research – on the Doctor. She met with a man designated Ninth."

"_What?_" Jack scrambled up, "Stay with Owen, call if his condition changes."

Jack ran up to where Ianto was sitting, showing Gwen a printed black and white photograph. He snatched it out of their hands. "Oh my god…" The picture was of a pretty woman, much more alive than her Torchwood photograph had ever made her, talking with a man in a black leather coat. "The Doctor's coming here…"

Gwen blinked, "Erm, who?"

"You'll see." Jack grinned, a smile not seen since Gwen's unremembered first meeting with the man, "Everything's going to be okay. The Doctor can sort this out."

Ianto had risen, and was looking at the screen which displayed the street above, "I think we have another problem."

Gwen and Jack moved up to see what had troubled him, "Shit." Gwen cursed.

Three black cars, marked Torchwood, had just pulled up, and men with guns were jumping out. Jack was furious, "How the hell did they find out?"

"If what Christina was saying was more than paranoia, then I think we can assume that it wasn't just being left to us to keep an eye on Owen." Gwen said.

Jack growled, "Torchwood Two. Must be." He glared at the screen for one second as a man in a black suit stepped neatly out of the first car. No. He would not let them take Owen. He was not theirs to take. He belonged to Torchwood Three, where his friends were, where people would look at him as a talented person, not a lab rat. "Guns, explosives, anything, just get it. This is our home; all we have to do is hold it for two hours. As soon as you've got the weapons out, put us into Lockdown. Move!"

This was his home, these were his friends. Jack felt no allegiance towards the Torchwood agency in itself, only this one building, which, as far as he was concerned, was about to become as lost as Torchwood Four. He was beginning to understand their reasoning for disappearing.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: What do you think? Please let me know!!

As for IndeMaat's question, it was pure creativity on my part. I thought that, as they were dealing with aliens on a daily basis, a Torchwood position wouldn't be inherited and the secrets of the organisation wouldn't be passed down through a family, instead using head-hunters and scouts to find perfect employees. The only reason that would force them to keep a whole family within Torchwood would be if the family had a certain skill or talent that was hereditary.


	5. Chapter 5

Author Notes: Thanks for the reviews guys! And also thank you to Scout Girl for pointing out the number error, which is now fixed:)

Chapter 5

Tosh's head jerked up as all the lights went out, to be replaced by an eerie red glow. The base had gone into Lockdown, "Jack!" She called out, fear penetrating her tone.

Ianto, not Jack, came running down the stairs, holding out a gun, "Torchwood Two have just pulled up. Jack thinks they're here to take Owen – by force if necessary."

"But we won't let that happen, right?"

Jack came up behind Ianto and entered the cell, "No way in hell." He lifted Owen onto his shoulders, worried by the lack of response. He hoped Owen would survive two hours, "We need to get to a more defensible position. Come on."

"Where though?"

"My office. That way we have a position from above, and we can keep Owen out of sight."

"But no escape route."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure we don't get into a situation that needs escaping from, shall we?"

As they went up to the main level, Tosh could see Gwen was setting up pressure charges near the door; Ianto went to help, "Make sure you write down where you put those! I don't want to step on one in a few days time!" Jack yelled. As soon as he had laid Owen down, he addressed Toshiko, "How long will it take them to penetrate Lockdown?"

"They don't know our systems, but they have all the top people from Torchwood One. Those who survived anyway. I give them an hour, tops, before they get through."

Jack nodded absently, "Okay, help the others set up. And also install an automated release on the cell." Tosh frowned, and then gasped, "If worst comes to worst, we'll release the damn Weevil on them. At least it'd distract them…"

"Jack, we can do this, can't we?"

Jack looked down at Owen, "Why the hell not? We've done a lot of stuff."

Toshiko didn't look convinced.

* * *

The emergency lighting flickered as the people above fiddled with the terminals. Gwen and Ianto were lent on the railings, talking quietly, while Tosh sat in front of a computer, watching Torchwood Two's progress. Jack sat with Owen, who hadn't moved since Jack had carried him up to his office. More than once, Jack had checked his friend's pulse. It was times like this that got him thinking about things. Not just how much he feared everyday that one of his family would get killed, and that, unlike him, it would be permanent. It made him think about other things, like when the hell he had come to think of them as family anyway. Gwen, definitely Gwen. She was different; she seemed like the missing piece in the group. He hadn't realised how true his words had been; it was not just the twenty-first century, it was that night, that week, and now those changes were spiralling out of control. 

And now the Doctor was coming. Jack shivered slightly. He knew Rose would not be coming – he had already come to terms with her death. A man and a girl had walked into Torchwood One that day, and only a man had walked out. He still thought about her, and it was why he had liked Gwen so much, their naivety and innocence was strikingly similar. A yell broke through his thoughts, "They're through! They've disabled Lockdown." Sure enough, the lights came on at full power.

"Get ready!" The four levelled their guns, pointing them at the door. Jack closed his eyes for a second. Situations like this always reminded him of the first time he died

The door rolled open, and bullets rained through.

At first, only warning shots were sent by both parties, and then an odd cease fire was agreed to as the black-suited man walked into their base, "Jack! Is there any need for all this hostility?" Gwen's skin crawled at the voice. The accent was Glaswegian, but there was another lilt to it that gave it a strange foreign edge, like white noise lingering on the brink of your mind.

"I don't like people coming into my home brandishing guns, Horatio; it tends to piss me off a little."

"Come on now, Jack. I filed a transfer request for one of your operatives – one Owen Harper. I believe he has recently developed some, erm, shall we say _skills_ that Torchwood Two will find very useful in the future. Where is he?"

"Not available."

"Jack, I do not think you are an idiot, so don't patronise me. We greatly out number you; we know that his gene is over loading his body. If he dies before he can divulge the secrets that he holds, then an autopsy will be just as good for us-"

He didn't get any further. As he took one step forwards, he stepped on one of the charges that Gwen had set up. He exploded into a fine pink mist, which rained down. "Holy shit Gwen! How much did you use?"

"I'm not a bloody bomb expert Jack! I improvised!"

"Hell, I'm not complaining!"

There was no more room for talking; apparently the other operatives were still determined to complete their objective, and bullets were fired blind into the smoke. Tosh cried out as she caught one in her arm, and she ducked behind the bullet proof glass of Jack's office. He quickly followed, shoving the other two in before him. Another explosion went off, quickly followed in succession by four more. "That's all of them."

Jack nodded, "Stay here." Jack walked out onto the balcony, which was smeared red with blood. Four people remained, likely the hacker team who had heard the explosions below and come down. They looked terrified. "I want you to leave. Now. Take a message to your superiors. Torchwood Three is no longer under their jurisdiction. We will guard this rift, and we will fight for Earth, but we will not play your games. _Get out!_" Jack yelled the last words in such a tone that even Ianto jumped.

Jack turned, meaning to go back to his friends, when a playful voice called from behind him, "Well, I knew you didn't go in for subtleties, but I thought you were a tidier person than this." Jack whirled around, to see a man in a brown trench coat, with floppy hair and a wry grin, picking his way through the carnage, "Parked upstairs, hope you don't mind. I think I gave your friends a scare though; they seemed to think being down here was safer. Clearly not. Liked the speech, had to say I was worried when I found out that Christina's brother would be working for Torchwood, but you being in charge gives me a bit more confidence for his future. Only a little mind you, but you seem to have got more into the heroics than the first time we met. I guess I do rub off on some people."

Jack couldn't say a word. Although he had known of the whole Timelord regeneration gig, he hadn't expected him to be this different. This version was more, well, eccentric, and that was saying something. Jack found his voice, "You-"

"Yes, me, and I am very glad to see you're still walking around as well, thought you were done for on Satellite Five. Don't say I don't care." He dropped the cheeky persona slightly, replacing it with a warm smile, "I will explain as much as I can, but first, I think Owen needs my help, don't you?"

Jack nodded, moving aside to allow the Doctor through into his office. Toshiko shifted slightly away from Ianto, who was patching up her arm, to try and get a better look at the newcomer, "What's wrong with him?"

The Doctor produced a small sonic object, and began scanning Owen. He frowned, "I was there when the Etruscans implanted the girl with their DNA. I was too late to stop them. They didn't really mean any harm, they were a dying race, one of the most advanced of the Ancient Universe, and knew that humans were just on the rise. They orchestrated the event as well as they could, ensuring a timeline so accurate that they could tell me when to go and meet the final outcome. They told me that the gene would be unstable to varying degrees depending on what finally activated it. In this case, I'm guessing it wasn't something nice. They gave me this." The doctor produced a small necklace; a short black leather string, from which hung a tiny silver pendant, "Silver is an odd substance. Not originally from Earth, it is excellent for all eventualities, from lycanthropy to simply bringing a balance." He fastened it around Owen's neck.

All four Torchwood operatives watched, and then suddenly, Owen's eyes snapped open, and he scrambled to sit up, only to have the Doctor place a hand on his chest, "Lie still a moment. Whatever you went through, it's over, but it drained your body. Your friends have a lot to explain to you."

"Is it over?" Owen was still shivering badly, but now it seemed to be more from the shock of it all.

The Doctor smiled gently, "In a way. You are whole, as you were meant to be. One day it will seem better, I promise, but for now you'll just have to trust your friends." He rose, taking Jack outside forcibly by the arm, shutting the door behind them.

Jack blinked furiously, trying to make sense of the situation, "Thank you."

The Doctor shook his head, "I don't have much time; I left sort of in the middle of something. Listen, what I gave Owen does in no way solve the problem; it helps him control what he can do, which, if I'm perfectly honest, I have no idea as to its limitations. All I can advise you is to keep him safe. Keep all of them safe. I can't really explain right now, but you'll understand when you need to. Forgive them when you need to and keep them close. There's a reason why this century is when everything changes, and the fact that you have just become separate from Torchwood itself testifies to that."

"Why can't you just tell me?"

"Because I don't really know the full story. All I know is that it has something to do with you, me, this Torchwood and Bad Wolf. I don't even know how you are still alive, because by all rights you shouldn't be. The rift is growing, and it will continue to do so until Bad Wolf is appeased."

Jack seemed to want to ask more, but wanted to return to his friends more. Instead, he asked, "How did you know to come here? Now, I mean, I know you're good, but no one's that good."

The Doctor grinned, "Christina gave me the time, the Etruscans gave me the place, and I picked an exact arrival time when I thought you might all be awake. Actually, I think I came a bit early, but what can you do, no one's perfect." He sighed, "I have to go, I'm sorry I can't help more. Though I have a niggling feeling it won't be long before you're annoying me again."

"I'm sorry about Rose."

"Me too. But she's not dead, just safe from all this hell." He turned to go.

"Doctor…" Jack blinked; pausing for a second as his brain suddenly registered the true nature of Rose's situation. The traveller twisted back, a more grave expression on his face, "What am I? I can't die. I should be dead-"

"I wasn't lying, Jack, I honestly don't know. I'm sorry, but I have to go now, just stay safe, okay? I promise I will find all the answers one day."

* * *

She should be at home with Rhys. Tosh had gone home a little while ago, while Ianto had simply fallen asleep in the middle of the cleanup on the nearest chair. Jack had shut himself up in his office at the first window of opportunity, and so Gwen had left with the intention of going home. Until her legs spontaneously steered her towards Owen's apartment. He had been the first to leave, brushing off their words of concern, wanting to be alone to work out what had happened to him. 

Gwen stopped at his door, now fixed; Ianto had obviously done a good job. She was in two minds, until a muffled shout from within caused her to bang on the door, "Owen?"

Half a minute later, a very dishevelled Owen answered her shouts. He looked exhausted, his eyes were red and dark shadows under his eyes contrasted sharply with his otherwise pale complexion. He had clearly been asleep, as his bare chest was wrapped in a thin duvet, the new necklace glinting from within the folds. Gwen looked him over critically before talking. The fact that he had actually answered the door wrapped up in his bedcovers testified to how awful he really must be feeling, "Owen, I heard shouts."

He shook his head, "Must've been next door, they're quite loud." His voice was surprisingly soft, almost timid, nothing like his usual cocky persona.

Gwen ignored his denial, "Nightmares?"

"What do you want?" Gwen was taken aback by the complete lack of fight in the question. She made up her mind; she couldn't leave him like this.

"Can I come in?"

He glared at her half-heartedly for a few seconds, and then turned to go back within his home, leaving the door open behind him. Gwen was guiltily surprised not to smell alcohol, but then she remembered that he had probably smashed it all the night before. Owen sat down heavily on his bed, leaving Gwen standing, uncertain. He stared blankly at the floor for a little while, before muttering, "Well?"

Gwen almost used the question as an out, rethinking her actions. After all, Owen was hardly the most approachable of people. But she stood her ground; or rather she sat down next to him. "I only had one vision. It ended horribly, but it ended. You go home after experiencing a bloody horrible vision, and end up seeing more. You almost commit suicide, and then find out, after you've almost died, that your whole life has been orchestrated by Torchwood. I'm impressed you're so calm."

Owen didn't look up, he only continued to stare at the floor, "I'm really, really not."

Tentatively, Gwen moved so that their shoulders were touching. Owen flinched, but then relaxed. "Why don't you just talk to me?"

"I know too much. I can feel the gene within me, as if I can do anything with technology; the stuff that interacts with your mind. I can feel what the Etruscans felt, and I don't know what else is to come. I'm not the person I thought I was, and Torchwood Two is after me, which I doubt will end well. But that's not what's scary." Gwen frowned. Everything that Owen had listed sounded pretty damned scary to her. From his spooked expression, she could tell there was something that she had missed, "When I touched Jack, I saw something, something that made all the ghosts scream and the echo of the Etruscans twist in pain. I saw a glimmer of Bad Wolf."

Gwen blinked, "That's what Jack and the Doctor were talking about. What is it?"

Owen shivered, "I don't know. It's bad, controlling, everywhere. It's in the fabric of everything. And it's coming."

Gwen didn't know how to react, so she simply took his hand in hers, "Everything changes, that's what Jack said."

They sat in silence for hours, not speaking. Soon, Gwen would go home, and in the morning, they would see each other at work again. Life would return to normal, nothing would have happened.

They all would live in denial for as long as the wolf would allow.

_The man's dark secrets,_

_The family's dark pasts,_

_All shall walk the path of regret,_

_Until the stars shine out their last._

_The ghosts of Torchwood,_

_Shall never find their rest,_

_Never gain life as heroes should,_

_For they bear the curse of the blessed._

**FIN**

Author Notes: There you go:) This story is meant to fit within the Torchwood and Doctor Who timeline, and most of what I use here are my assumptions on how the story could go. The last bit with Gwen and Owen wasn't in the original version, but it kept poking me to be written…

Anyway, please let me know what you thought of the story!


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